


The Unfathomable Depths of Love

by winternacht



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Buried Alive, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Content, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22596814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winternacht/pseuds/winternacht
Summary: Hezekiah wants to share the love of the Buried with his friend.
Relationships: Nathaniel Beale/Hezekiah Wakeley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46
Collections: The Magnus Archives Rare Pairs 2020





	The Unfathomable Depths of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nelja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/gifts).



Nathaniel had known no rest since he’d received the last of Hezekiah’s letters. He’d paid his stable hand and the baker’s son to stand guard in front of the house armed with hatches, before sending his cook to confirm that Reverend Williams had indeed been killed, upon which he was to inform the magistrate.

But the cook hadn’t returned yet, and Nathaniel was slowly but surely losing his nerve, his hands shaking as he lit one pipe after the other, unsure of what to do when the tobacco ran out. Turn to drink, perhaps, just as Hezekiah had. But he couldn’t allow his mind to be clouded. Vigilance was the better part of valour, and if Hezekiah stepped through the door, he had to be wakeful and prepared to do whatever was necessary to save himself, his musket within arm’s reach at any time.

He’d believed himself so prepared. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Hezekiah stepping into the salon, hair matted with earth and blood. His own or not, Nathaniel couldn’t begin to guess. But concern was a luxury he couldn’t afford. He reached for his weapon as Hezekiah raised his hand in greeting, and pulled the trigger with shaking hands. Hezekiah let out a scream that shook Nathaniel to his core. Pain or anger. He couldn’t tell. It was already too much for him.

Nathaniel came to on ground so soft, he almost believed he’d been laid down in straw. But then he noticed the smell, the wet, musty scent of earth. His eyes shot open in alarm. But all he could see was the darkness around him. Darkness and Hezekiah, sitting astride his hips. His instinct was to reach for him, to push him away, but his arms wouldn’t move. Trapped, as he realised with horror, within the soil, binding him tighter than any chains when it should have been soft enough to break through. He tried to buck Hezekiah off, but with his feet stuck in the earth as well, he was unable to build up the necessary momentum.

“Let me go,” he yelled, but Hezekiah simply covered his mouth with his hand. It tasted of salt and dirt and death.

“Quiet,” Hezekiah said. “You must not disturb their rest.”

“Their rest? You killed them!” Nathaniel spat. “And now you want to kill me too.”

“You misunderstand, old friend,” Hezekiah said. “I have no intention of killing you. It crossed my mind, I will admit. You can’t fault me for that, after your betrayal. After you tried to kill me yourself. Could you have lived with that sin?”

Nathaniel’s heart sank in his chest, and for the fraction of a moment, he saw the image again, of the bullet he’d shot penetrating Hezekiah’s shoulder. But he was still moving now as if he was feeling no pain at all. And still, guilt washed over Nathaniel afresh, inhibiting his futile attempts to push his friend off. 

“But as you can see, I am no longer the man I once was. And I could never kill you. What I want to do is to share with you the beauty of the Buried.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” Nathaniel yelled with increasing desperation. “The buried are dead. To desecrate their graves would be a crime.”

“On that, we agree,” Hezekiah said. “But you still don’t understand. I will make you understand.”

With that, he leaned forward. Nathaniel almost hoped to smell liquor on his breath. To be assured that this was just a temporary affliction. But his breath only smelled of the earth around them. And his lips tasted the same.

Panicked, Nathaniel turned away. “What are you doing?” This, this is-”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember, Nathaniel,” Hezekiah whispered in a way that made Nathaniel’s skin break out in goosebumps. "Or do you intend to stomp on those memories as well?”

Of course he remembered. Those secret kisses, not stolen but gladly given, all those years ago. He hadn’t even told the Reverend, though he’d felt guilt. Guilt about not feeling as guilty as he was supposed to be.

“Please, Hezek-” He was interrupted with another kiss, and Nathaniel sighed as Hezekiah pushed his lips apart. Just as wonderful as in his memories. Even though back then, the taste had been that of the apples, crisp and sweet, Hezekiah had snuck from the neighbour’s apple tree. Even though his lips were now coarse with dirt. But the feeling hadn’t changed. Maybe there was still something in him left, a spark of humanity that Nathaniel could nurse into a flame.

“Hezekiah,” he whispered quietly. “Please, let’s get out of here and just… talk.”

“I have tried talking to you,” Hezekiah said. “But I see now that the beauty of the Buried is nothing you can convey with mere words. Its embrace is something you need to feel.” He pushed Hezekiah’s shoulder deeper into the ground, and he screamed as the earth around him parted easily, swallowing him more deeply. Enough to nearly cover his upper arms.

“I don’t know what devil possessed you, but Hezekiah, this is madness! You must be seeing this!”

“You’re wrong,” he said calmly. Nathaniel wondered if he’d be less frightened if he’d indeed seemed angry. Because Nathaniel had always known how to deal with Hezekiah’s anger, how to soothe it. But he didn’t seem angry at all. He looked calm and rational, as if they were debating a mundane issue, his eyes focused and alive. “This is not the devil’s work, Nathaniel. Quite the opposite.” His fingers started pushing under the material of his shirt. Cold and calloused from years of hard work, but so endlessly gentle, even as Nathaniel trembled with fear. “This is God’s love.”

Despite Nathaniel’s legs being trapped in the soil, Hezekiah had no trouble moving him to suit his purposes. Or baring him.

“Hezekiah, please-” His breathing quickened as he realised what was about to happen, but at this point, he could no longer move, confined by the earth around him. The night air was cold against his prick, but the earth was warm. So wonderfully warm. And Hezekiah’s touch was as skillful as ever, rousing him to shameful hardness despite the horror of his circumstances. Unearthing memories long suppressed, of secret touches in hidden places. Hidden from anyone’s sight but always open to the sky. 

“I think I’m starting to understand,” Nathaniel whispered, trying to keep the terror out of his voice. Hoping it was what Hezekiah wanted to hear. It was the earth he was obsessed with. And if he endured, if he managed to reach that part inside Hezekiah that still understood reason, buried under layers of delusions and heresy and dirt as it was, before he suffocated beneath it himself, maybe then he would live.

“That’s all I want, Nathaniel,” Hezekiah whispered as he sank down onto Nathaniel’s cock, engulfing him slowly with silken heat. Nathaniel moaned despite himself, his hips twitching in the ground as they tried to push up of their own accord. Sweat broke out on his skin. 

“Do you see, Nathaniel?” Hezekiah started to move, rolling his hips, leaning forward as far as he could, setting his arms down just above where his shoulders were trapped in the earth. “The Buried is a lover’s embrace.”

Nathaniel’s hips jerked, his cock so eager to bury itself in his old friend. That had to be it. What Hezekiah had wanted to show him. This desire that neither deathly fear nor shame could quell. 

The graveyard’s air filled with the sounds of their moans, carried away by the wind, seeping into the earth below them. It didn’t take long for Nathaniel to reach his climax, Hezekiah’s body pressing down on him relentlessly. The sensation left him loose and relaxed. Was that the peace Hezekiah had talked about? Was that what he’d meant to show him?

“I understand,” he whispered, leaning up to brush his lips against Hezekiah’s. Praying that this was enough. Praying that he would be able to forget again and not long for Hezekiah’s embrace.

“You don’t,” Hezekiah said with a note of melancholy in his voice. Handfuls of dirty started raining from the sky, forcing Nathaniel to squeeze his eyes tightly shut.

“Please!” Nathaniel cried, spitting out the earth that had fallen into his mouth. “I want to understand!”

“Don’t worry,” Hezekiah said gently, caressing his cheek. “You will.”

~

Hezekiah was sitting on the grave, brushing a gentle hand across the freshly disturbed soil. Nathaniel hadn’t understood, in the end. But he, too, was now at peace, and Hezekiah could still feel the evidence of his bliss between his thighs. He would have liked a companion. But perhaps this was his lot in life. He had no intention of complaining about it.

There were always more graves to dig. 


End file.
